Pieces of the Puzzle
by xXLunarEclipse896Xx
Summary: Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, Alfred and Arthur were always meant to fit together. Funny thing is, they don't want to admit it. America/England, Spain/Romano, Germany/Italy, France/Canada, Greece/Japan, and slight Hungary/Prussia/Austria in the end
1. Conversations Gone Wrong

_A sound...._

_He was waiting for __**that**__ sound. _

_No, it was not just a sound. It was a voice. _

_But which voice? There are billions of voices in this world, each one belonging to a distinct owner. Perhaps...he was waiting for the owner? _

_Ridiculous. _

_Insane._

_Preposterous. _

_.......and yet it was true._

_

* * *

_

Arthur Kirkland silently poured himself another cup of Earl Grey tea. The bitter and yet addictive scent always reminded him of England, no matter where he was in the world. For that reason, he carried a few Earl Grey bags of tea wherever he went. Now there was the problem. Where did he ever go? Yes, he attended meetings such as the UN and the G8, but any social gatherings? Sure, there were the holiday parties other nations held, but they invited him because he was such an important nation in history. Did he actually have any friends to spend time with? To talk to whenever he was troubled? To comfort him? To just **be **there?

Yes and no.

There was Kiku Honda, for example. Kiku, the living representation of Japan, was a good ally (and friend?). They have been to each other's homes before, chatted about some issues, laughed a bit..but there was always so much silence in between it all. Kiku was a very kind hearted, shy, timid, friendly person. Both of them lonely, and their relationship is quite well. Despite all this, he was not a prime example of what would be called a "close friend".

Then there was Alfred.

Alfred F. Jones, the living representation of the United States of America. Sure, they drank together sometimes and spent time together outside of meetings.... but it is all too painful. The Revolution....the War of 1812.....all of that burned Arthur in ways that he could not put into words. It was almost as if he was being ripped apart.

And yet he loved being with Alfred.

Why? Why did Arthur enjoy the company of someone that caused him over 300 years of pain? How to describe it....how to put it into words? Yes, being near Alfred caused him unimaginable pain, and yet it brought him happiness that he never thought existed. Arthur always dreaded and yet looked forward to seeing the hamburger loving nation's smile, hearing his laugh, just _**seeing**_ him. The joy he felt as he and Alfred casually talked was indescribable. It was all...

Amazing.

"I wonder what I should do today," Arthur said quietly. He sat at his kitchen table, blankly staring into the murkiness of his tea. "Maybe I should go buy some more groceries. Yes, I suppose I'll do that." He often talked to himself when he was depressed, shutting out even his mystical friends. At times, the United Kingdom wished to brood over things alone. _"Arthur, why not call up Alfred? It is worth a try, right?"_ A small fairy named Lilac had appeared, resting on Arthur's messy blonde hair. "Why would I want to call that bloody git? Besides, he's most likely busy doing something completely ridiculous at the moment!" All the mystical creatures knew Arthur had a habit of denying what he wanted to do, either out of pure embarrassment or he was just too stubborn to admit it. Lilac sighed, shaking her head, her black curls swaying as she did so. _"No, he is free at the moment. I just checked up on him, since I was bored. Alfred was just watching some reruns of CSI: New York."_

Arthur chuckled, knowing how Alfred adored CSI shows. "Alright fine, Lilac. You win this time. I'll give the damn wanker a call after I finish my tea, alright? Now, off with you!" Lilac giggled happily before flying off to rejoin her own kind. Arthur smiled softly. Mystical creatures were so nosy, and yet too cute to deny. Right?

* * *

Alfred paused the television, stopping at the scene where they discovered that the suspect was murdered. The phone was ringing, bringing a halt to his Saturday activities. Days were getting shorter again, and he was hating it. It meant more time for work, less time for fun. "Hello?" Alfred asked, answering the phone in a dull voice.

**"Bloody wanker, have you been staying up all night again? You fucking sound like you're about to die, you git."**

Arthur. The American stifled a sigh as he pictured the Englishman's frowning face back in England. "Ahaha, Arthur, you sure do know me well! So, what's up?"

**"Shut the hell up, you stupid bugger! I don't even know why I even called.....well, anyways, I was wondering if you were free today to, I don't know...hang out, as you call it."**

Alfred laughed. "So that's why you called? Ahahahaha, and here I thought you called to interrupt my shows! Yeah, I'm free! When should we meet up?"

On the other end, Arthur began to stutter. Alfred noted how he always blushed furiously while stuttering, almost as if it was too embarrassing. **"W-well, I s-s-suppose around...around....um...5 p.m?" **"Sure," Alfred replied eagerly, "Its a date!"

Silence.

_Oh crap, did I just....?_ Alfred's mind couldn't process anything else but that one thought. From the other end, Arthur was silent as well. Not even the sound of breathing was heard, so Alfred assumed that the comment just took his breath away in surprise. **"Um, actually....I just remembered something really important. Its economy business in my country so, I guess we'll have to cancel. Maybe another time, bye!"**

Then he hung up.

Alfred stood there in awed silence, still clutching the phone in his hand against his ear. Why did Arthur cancel? Was it because of that one little comment? America was blushing a deep red as he set the phone down, slowly trying to regain his mind. "Okay then...." Alfred muttered in annoyance. Now he was just plain mad. Arthur was always complaining about how tactless Alfred was, but Arthur just showed a prime example of tactlessness! ".....Geez, he's so stupid sometimes."

At that moment, someone knocked at his door. His heart nearly stopped beating as he drew up the possibility of it being Arthur. "A-Alfred! Its m-me, M-Matthew! O-Open up, please?" It was Matthew. Disappointed, Alfred opened the door. There stood Matthew, the identical twin of the American himself, standing there while clutching Kumajiro. "Ah, Matthew! Come on in! Hahahaha!" Matthew nearly rolled his eyes at the laugh as he entered the house. The two sat down on the couch in front of the TV, facing each other. "So, what's up, Matt? Something wrong between you and France?" Matthew's face turned a deep red, outdoing the red of his nation's flag. "N-No! D-D-Don't jump to c-conclusions, A-Alfred! I just...just wanted to stop by t-t-to spend t-time with y-you."

"Oh, really? Maybe you can teach Arthur a thing or two!"

"H-Huh?"

"Nothing!"

_Oh dear, it seems another unspoken argument is brewing here,_ the Canadian thought uneasily. Alfred and Arthur were famous for their unspoken arguments and quarrels; it was amazing how glances and silence were great weapons for the two. "S-So," Matthew tried changing the subject, "Have you, um, stuck to you d-diet?"

"What diet?"

_You forgot already?!_

"Hey, Matthew?"

"Hm?"

"How did you and France, well, um, get your relationship started?"

Silence.

"W-Well....you see.... I actually w-went up t-to h-h-him and said I l-loved him. I didn't expect him t-to actually accept.....but he did. It all s-started because of a s-simple confession......I s-s-s-s-suppose...."

Alfred nodded, taking it in.

"And then what?"

"W-What do you m-mean, Alfred?"

"I mean, is that all? Nothing elaborate or dramatic happened? It didn't take something huge to bring you both together like that? Are you sure?" Alfred found himself not simply asking, but almost demanding. Kumajiro, the bear that Matthew always carried, squirmed out from his master's hands and plopped to the floor. "K-Kumajiro," Matthew sighed, "Can't you sit still?"

"Who?"

"I'm Matthew....Canada.....and your owner."

"Matt! Answer me!"

In surprise, Matthew turned to the demanding Alfred. "U-Um, I r-really don't know! Its d-d-d-different for e-each couple!" The Canadian was almost shaking, startled by his brother's sudden demanding shout for an answer he didn't have. Alfred froze, guilt darkening his eyes. "I'm sorry, Matthew. I just....I just want something to happen between me and the person I love, thats all. I was just trying to figure out how..."

"W-Wait a minute, are you t-trying to confess to........"

* * *

Arthur stared at the wall blankly, unable to even generate a single thought or word. How could he be so...stupid? Things just weren't going his way. "I really blew it," he managed to say numbly. Tomorrow was the G8 meeting...he had a feeling another unspoken argument was brewing between them, and he couldn't really do anything to stop it from forming. He started the fire, and now it was spreading.

_"Nice job," _Lilac commented with a sigh of disdain.

"Don't mock me right now, I'm in no mood for bloody arguments."

_"Do you two enjoy irritating each other?"_

"No..."

_"So why did you hang up?" _Lilac lazily plopped down on the Englishman's shoulder, leaning against his collar as if it were a pillow. _"You only made things worse, you know?"_

Arthur subconsciously traced his fingers over his upper right arm, the scars from the American Revolution almost burning through his clothes. There were many scars from Alfred's rebellion, but the one on his arm was the most sickening to look at for Arthur. It was the final scar. The scar created at their final battle, the battle before America became a free nation.

It was the last thing Alfred gave him before they became separate nations.

* * *

**I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or the characters. These characters are not related to the actual countries in anyway. **

**First chapter up! I really don't know where this story will go, so I'll be making it up on the go! **


	2. Robbers, Mean Jokes, and Anger

_He was not waiting for just a voice._

_He was waiting for its owner._

_Tragic memories and events still separates their hearts; the final door separating the love that is trying to connect._

_With love comes tragic events, right?_

_Romeo and Juliet suffered at the hands of history's tragedies, in the end it killed them both. Would they suffer as well? Will the tragic love story of Romeo and Juliet become real? This, even I do not know._

_What will it take to break down the door that separates them?_

_What will it take to free themselves from the shackles of their past? _

_Perhaps they will find happiness. _

_They just need to break down that cursed door._

_

* * *

_

At 6 in the morning, Alfred woke up to the smell of pancakes.

His first reaction was springing out of bed with an eager smile; his second reaction was freezing in his tracks and shaking in slight fear.

Who was in his house!?

If it wasn't Arthur or Lithuania, who was it? The American reached for the one thing in his bedroom that could be used to defend himself: a baseball bat. Slowly and quietly, he crept out of his room towards the kitchen, where the delicious smell of pancakes filled the air. Someone was moving around in the kitchen! Alfred silently positioned himself as close to the intruder as he could, and prepared to bash the person's head in.

Matthew turned around to see his brother was about to crush his skull with a bat. He paled.

"GYAAAAHHH!!! ALFRED!!!! W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!??" Matthew screamed in horror, his hands trying to shield his head from the weapon. Alfred blinked in surprise. "Eh? You know me? What are you doing in here anyway, making me breakfast?"

Matthew blinked in surprise, then face-palmed. "Oh....I see what's going on. Alfred, I-I'm Matthew, r-remember?! Y-Your brother! You let me stay over l-last night..." Alfred lowered his weapon as he remembered. "Oh! Ahahahaha, sorry Matt! I thought you were some kind of robber or something, and so I armed myself! Pretty funny, huh?"

"W-Why would a robber be m-making you pancakes?"

"...good point..... Anyways, why'd you make all this food? I'm thankful, bro, but I could have gotten us some food at McDonald's! They have these new breakfast value meals there, complete with maple syrup and everything! You'd love it, Matt," Alfred chuckled. Matthew rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed by the offer. "That sounds disgusting. Its not even real syrup! Its corn-syrup with maple flavoring!" The Canadian had a deep grudge against artificial maple syrup, especially if it was used with delicious pancakes. Surprisingly, his brother Alfred had no problem with it at all. Matthew assumed it was because Alfred was with Arthur longer, while Matthew was with Francis for a while. The twin brothers had different tastes, as well as personalities and opinions.

"Wow, you didn't even stutter that time! I guarantee that one day, you'll stop stuttering completely! So," Alfred picked up a nearby fork, stabbed a pancake, and shoved a piece into his mouth, "how long do you plan on staying over?"

"I told you last night, didn't I?"

"You did?"

"M-My house was damaged....t-too much snow piled up on the roof....it caved in my house. Y-You told me I could stay here until it was done." Honestly, why did he even bother? Alfred might be repeating this morning's shenanigans every day until Matthew leaves. His American brother would only forget later on and question who he was. "Have you made u-up with A-Arthur?" Matthew piped up.

Alfred nearly choked on the pancake piece in his mouth. "A-Are you alright!?" Matthew whimpered in surprise. Alfred nodded, still coughing. Once his coughing and sputtering ceased, he replied, "Why should I? Hey, how do you even....oh, I told you yesterday, didn't I?"

"Y-You forgot everything, d-didn't you?"

"Ahaha, sorry, Matt. Anyways, why should I? Besides, it isn't really an argument, just something Arthur did out of embarrassment. We'll be fine! And I can bet that he'll call up soon to either apologize directly or indirectly! Ahahaha, it'll be fine!" Alfred laughed and flashed a thumbs-up, causing Matthew to chuckle a bit. he had to admit....his brother was very.....amusing.

* * *

Arthur sighed.

The phone was in his hand, and yet his other hand refused to dial the number. _His _number. _Alfred's _number. After what happened yesterday, Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Alfred was a bit ticked off. Arthur would be too, he had to admit. But could you blame him? Alfred called it a _date_, and Arthur was just too shocked and flustered to say anything other than that lie he told to get out of it. Lilac, that meddling little fairy, reappeared again. Her lilac colored dress (hence the name Lilac) swished around as she fluttered about around Arthur's head, her little wings beating rapidly. _"Just call him, why don't you? I'm sure he'll understand," _she pressed. Arthur gulped nervously. _"Don't be nervous, Arty! It will work out!" _Lilac found that helping Arthur in his relationship with Alfred was very, shall we say, entertaining.

"But what will I say...?" Arthur muttered.

_"Anything. Just apologize, at the very least."_

"Alright then, fine. Persuasive little fairy, I really should tell you sister, Harmony, to lecture you more often," Arthur replied with a click of his tongue. He shakily dialed the American's number, and nearly fainted with nervousness as Alfred answered.

"Hello? Arthur?"

"How did you know it was me!?"

"Caller ID, duh!"

"Oh, I see. Well, I just wanted to, er, apologize for my behavior yesterday. I didn't mean to offend you... I just...I don't know...." Arthur found himself sputtering nonsense about how he was tactless and offensive. On the other end, Alfred was trying not to laugh. Arthur, when he was flustered, was probably one of the funniest things Arthur ever does. Not to mention that the way his blush looked on that handsome and adorable face really turned Alfred on in ways that France would talk abo--WAIT,WHAT THE FUCK. Alfred was a bright red, even redder than Arthur was on the other end. That thought did not occur to him.

It did, but did he want to think it?

Yes and no.

"Alright, Arty! I get it! Now stop stuttering like a girl, will you?"

"W-WHAT!? I am not! take it back, you bloody git!"

"Make me, why don't you?" Alfred laughed cockily.

Arthur growled, "Fuck you! I'll do things to you that will make you unable to walk for weeks! Let alone months, you bloody wanker!" From the other end, Alfred was silent. What was he thinking?

"Wow, Arthur. You trying to get into my pants?"

"WHAT!? Take that back, you bloody pervert!" The Englishman hissed angrily. Alfred laughed on the other end. "You really are a lonely old pervert, right Arthur?" Of course, Arthur was actually only a few years older* in human years, but Alfred just couldn't resist teasing him about it. "Fine, you know what? Fine. Fuck you."

Arthur hung up...again.

Alfred slammed down the phone this time, very pissed off. What the fucking hell was with Arthur? Not that he really cared, of course, but it still made him mad. Hanging up again over a little funny remark? "That guy...I swear, he's always PMSing!" Alfred hissed. Matthew, who was flipping through the channels on the TV, looked up in surprise. "W-what happened?" The Canadian sat up straight from his slouched position so he could see Alfred's face...which was now full of anger.

Alfred was rarely angry.

Matthew knew this with all of his heart. Sure, the American did get a little ticked off or annoyed, but never angry. The last time Matthew saw him this angry was the 9/11 incident a few years back...that horrible, horrible day made everyone mad, actually. Especially Arthur. Matthew could still picture the worry that Arthur wore as a mask that day as he rushed to Alfred's side, whispering words of reassurance and hope to him in the attempt to calm him down. Alfred was rarely angry with Arthur, to be clear. Not since 1812.

After that, it had gotten better. They spent more time together, laughed, argued over trivial things but later made up...everything you would expect two people to do. Why was this time so different? Matthew's eyebrows furrowed in a bit of irritation. _Knowing Alfred, _he thought as he chewed his lip uneasily, _he probably offended Arthur. And Arthur replied in a way making Alfred mad. But this mad? What did he say?_

"That stupid tea-sucking bastard...." Alfred grumbled. The American hopped onto the couch and sat beside Matthew, snatching the remote control (while ignoring Matthew's protest) to change the channel. "What happened?" Matthew asked, shaking Alfred's arm. Alfred rolled his eyes, groaning in annoyance as he remembered the stupid argument. "Arthur is such a prick! I just made a little joke, then he got all pissed off and snapped at me! He ended the conversation with a "fuck you" statement. He has no sense of humor!" Matthew frowned again, uneasily thinking this over. Knowing his older brother, Alfred most likely upset Arthur too much again. _He needs to read the atmosphere more..._

"What did you say to him?" Matthew was surprised at the boldness in his voice, and how it lacked his usual stuttering. He supposed that, because of the current little argument going on, his stuttering was replaced by the Alfred-like side of him. (Yes, because they are twins, they share personalities. But at certain moments). Alfred blinked in surprise and reply casually, "Well, he said a funny statement that sounded like he wanted to, you know, sleep with me or something. So I asked him if he was trying to get into my pants. He snapped at me, and then I called him a lonely old pervert. I don't see what made him so upset. I mean, we do this stuff all the time!"

"Y-You said that to A-Arthur? Y-You did? Are you...are you an idiot!?"

"Huh?"

"You know he doesn't like to be reminded of how lonely he is! You know!" Matthew huffed, his light blue eyes darkened with his anger. "What? Matt, you really think he's mad about that? He's just PMSing, thats all!" Alfred scoffed with a cheery grin.

"You say that now. Just wait until the G8 meeting later today. You'll see then."

* * *

Matthew was right.

The G8 meeting was a complete hell. All the attending nations, minus Arthur, sat together in silence. "W-Wow....that was very....very..." Francis couldn't pick the right word. What could he say at this moment? What word could define the rage and hurt Arthur just displayed moments before leaving? Could anything describe it? "I didn't know Arthur could be so aggressive," Ludwig commented quietly, also feeling a bit uneasy. Even the cold Ivan was silent, feeling a small tug at his heart. The feeling, of course, was foreign to his heart, but it was still there.

Pity.

Alfred was still clenching his fists, practically shaking with rage.

Why? Why didn't Arthur just tell him before? That all this time...Alfred was....was.... He couldn't keep the tears from falling.

America, the almighty America, was crying.

And nobody seemed to blame him.

* * *

**Hey, everyone! I'm glad you're reading!**

**Anyways, the next chapter will be a flashback to the events of the G8 meeting. **

**Arthur was actually only a few years older*: In human years, Arthur is 23. Alfred is 19. This is actual fact from the Hetalia character profiles. **

**Review please!!!**


	3. Arthur's Rage

_He stood there, trying to pull him back._

_He stood there, trying to break away._

_Ready to keep._

_Ready to run._

_Was it a mistake to spare him? To let him prosper and move on to great achievements? To let him surpass __**him**__? _

_Was it a mistake to leave him? To cause him unimaginable pain for hundreds of years? To leave him alone, not caring that he was slowly dying inside?_

_Past events always lead to something._

_Something painful._

_Something marvelous. _

_In the end, it always leads to __something__. Does it not?_

_

* * *

_

_Alfred, Ludwig, Francis, Veneciano, Ivan, Kiku, and Matthew waited patiently in the G8 conference room, all of them sitting in silence at the table. The only missing one was Arthur, who was about 20 minutes late. "Strange, Arthur is usually the first one here. You all know how he is about being earlier," Francis remarked with a sigh. Ludwig nodded in agreement. "We should just start without him."_

_Alfred, who was supposed to start the meeting, nodded in agreement. Now, he had to admit, agreeing to starting without Arthur was a matter of revenge. The American thought this was the perfect way for getting back at the Englishman, taunting him about his tardiness and how he missed out on a lot of information. It sounded like a good plan to Alfred. "Well then, I would like to announce that m--"_

_"S-Sorry for being late! *huff* *huff*! The entire day has been a mess, and I....sorry..." Arthur burst through the door, interrupting Alfred. The brit was panting and huffing, obviously showing that he had ran to the meeting as fast as he could. "Ah, it doesn't bother us," Kiku said with a slight bow of his head. 'In fact, Arthur-san, we only just started. Please, do not worry." Arthur smiled his thanks and sat down beside Francis and Ivan (not the best seat in the room). "Wow, you look like hell," Alfred scoffed with his usual smile._

_"Oh shut up, bastard," Arthur snapped. _

_"Whatever. I bet you were late because you were still too pissed about our conversation over the phone, right?" Alfred chuckled. Arthur turned red as the other nations eyed him. "Conversation? What juicy and desirable words did you two exchange?" Francis said with his usual smirk. Matthew frowned at Alfred, slightly irritated that the phone call was brought into this. "It was just a simple little quarrel," Matthew interrupted with a timid little smile. "N-Nothing like that..F-Francis."_

_"Wait, who?" Arthur asked._

_"Matthew......Canada...."_

_"Oh! Wait...you were there!?" _

_Arthur had stood up out of his chair, his face bright red. Matthew blushed a little at his own outburst. "Well...yes.... Alfred told me about it and I....sorry." Arthur turned to Alfred, glaring daggers at him. "Alfred! How dare you? I can't believe you blabbed about a private conversation to the nearest person!" _

_"Oh relax. You're always so worked up about things, you know? Maybe its a result of being lonely," Alfred replied with his usual cocky smile. "No, actually you've always been worked up and stressed. After that French Indian war, you know, Arty? You were so stressed about money! No wonder you taxed the life out of America, which led to me kicking your butt! " This kind of statement was usual for Alfred to say. In fact, Arthur and Alfred bickered about the taxes and the Revolution constantly. However, today was different. How much anger can one person hold secretly? Not much. Like a bottle, it will soon overflow. _

_Burst._

_Pop._

_Explode. _

_**SMACK**_

_The single sound of palm hitting cheek echoed throughout the room, silencing everyone. Feliciano was, in fact, so scared by the sudden action that he hid behind Ludwig. "Mama mia..." the Italian whimpered. _

_Arthur had slapped Alfred. _

_Across the face._

_Hard. _

_"Damn it, why can't you shut your bloody mouth for at least a minute about that fucking rebellion of yours!" Arthur shouted angrily. Alfred stood there, dumbstruck, his hand placed over his stinging red cheek. "Arty...you know I was just joking...." he muttered. _

_"Joking!? You call that joking!? Making fun of my failures, my life, __**me**__, is not funny! Do you have any fucking idea about how it hurts!?" Arthur's voice grew even louder as he clenched his fists in raise, making it seem like he was ready to hit Alfred again. "For hundreds of years, all I could think about was how stupid I was to drive you away. I was so lonely.....and fucking damn it, I lost everything trying to get you back. Everything! Colonies, power, money..... And you know what, I should have just forgotten you! You've caused me hundreds of years of pain, unbearable pain. Do you fucking now how much I missed you? I wanted you back so damn much, I spent so much time moping and crying about it! You, Alfred, are royal ass. Damn you....damn you and your country! I wish....I wish that I never raised you....that I....that I never even met you! Go to hell, you fucking yankee! I'm tired of your cruel jokes, of your taunts, and of YOU! I HATE YOU, ALFRED F. JONES!" _

_Arthur turned and ran, leaving them all in complete awe and silence. _

_"A-Arthur-san," Kiku whispered, feeling pity and sadness tug at his heart. Francis was frozen in place, his hand still over his mouth in surprise. Matthew was chewing his lip, trembling as he tried to keep the tears from flowing. Ivan just sat there, a perplexed look on his face. Feliciano was hugging Ludwig, whimpering. Alfred was a completely enveloped by shock. _

_He never thought about it that way._

_Because of Alfred....because of Alfred, Arthur lost so much. Arthur lost his reputation, most of his money, land, and power. Alfred didn't speak, let alone see him, until 1812, when Arthur was desperately attacking him as his revenge. Arthur wasn't very, shall we say, open and fun like Alfred was. He wasn't very good at warming up to people and becoming social... He must have been alone for so long. All that pain, loneliness, and suffering...._

_.....was Alfred's fault. _

_Alfred could just picture it, in high detail. Arthur, sitting alone, crying. Sobbing. Screaming. Alone. Arthur was always alone, wasn't he? Before Alfred, he was alone. Even when he was a child, he was alone. _

_Alone. _

_The very word defined Arthur's entire life. _

_Why? Why didn't Arthur just tell him before? That all this time...Alfred was hurting him in almost unbearable ways? He couldn't keep the tears from falling._

_America, the almighty America, was crying._

_And nobody seemed to blame him._

_

* * *

_

"And that's what happened," Feliciano finished.

After the G8 meeting earlier, Feliciano rushed over to visit Romano. Antonio was visiting that day, so the North Italian had the pleasure of telling the story to an audience of two. Antonio was bawling, tears flowing like a baby's would. "T-That is so....so sad..." he sobbed.

"They're both losers, so who cares?" Romano scoffed, his lips trembling. You could obviously tell that the Southern Italian was trying to hold back a small cry or sob. "Brother, aren't you a bit sad? Ve?" Feliciano sighed, pouting slightly. Ludwig was upset about it, so why wasn't Romano? "Ve.....poor Arthur."

"See how lucky we are, Romano? We don't have those kind of relationship problems! You and I have an everlasting lo--"

"Shut it, Antonio. Or else I'll shove three tomatoes down your goddamned throat."

* * *

Arthur slammed the door behind him as he entered his house. His eyes were brimming with tears, and his cheeks were deeply flushed from crying. "S-Stupid Alfred...." he sobbed with a shaky breath. The Brit rubbed his watery eyes, continuously sobbing and crying.

_"Arthur?"_

_"Arthur? What happened!?"_

_"A-Arthur....what happened to you!? You're crying!"_

Multiple mystical creatures rushed over to him, worried and afraid. "I-Its....t-t-that bl-bloody git...." Arthur managed to choke out.

Something was wrong.

His head was throbbing.

His lungs didn't seem to function as he tried sucking in more air.

The room was spinning....

....so...

....fast.....

....like....

......a.....

.....merry-go-round...

His knees buckled.

Everything was darkening...but his eyes were open still.

He hit the ground, unconscious, barely breathing, and his eyes were still open.

One last fresh trail of tears flowed down his cheek.

_Alfred....._

"_**ARTHUR!!!!!" **_The mystical creatures screamed.

* * *

The car ride home was filled with silence.

Matthew had to drive this time. Normally, Alfred would have laughed at the idea of Matthew driving his car, then he would push Matthew into the passenger seat as he took the wheel. But this time, Alfred was in no mood to drive. The American's eyes were still a light red color from crying, his cheeks stung from the tears he cried. His right cheek especially, from Arthur's slap.

"W-Want to g-g-grab some McDonald's?" Matthew piped up uneasily.

".....not hungry...."

That was probably the first time Matthew ever heard Alfred say that after a meeting. He was ALWAYS whining about stopping to get a hamburger after meetings. "Y-Yeah...lets just go to y-your place."

Silence.

"Will he ever forgive me?" Alfred muttered.

"What?"

"Will Arthur ever forgive me? For everything I've done to him?"

".....I really don't know, Alfred."

They arrived at Alfred's house, and got out of the car. As soon as they did, that, Matthew hugged his brother. "M-Matt....why didn't he tell me!? Did you know about it?" Alfred whimpered. Matthew, who was not used to playing the role of the steady and supportive brother, sighed. "A-Alfred. He n-never told anyone. A-Arthur just...just kept it locked away for all these years."

"I want to go see him."

"Not now."

"When!?"

"Just not now."

Now would have been a good time for Alfred, no, anyone to stop by.

Arthur was still unconscious.

And barely breathing.

* * *

**....What have I done? *looks down at hands* I've created a huge mess!**

**Arthur: You got that right! Why the hell am i unconscious!? **

**Me: This happens a lot to people! Stress, built-up-rage, suppressed emotions, and a whole lot of crying, can actually lead to this!**

**Alfred: IGGY! FORGIVE ME! *glomps Arthur***

**Me: FORGIVE ME TOO!!!! *glomps Arthur***

**Arthur: *blushing* G-GET OFF OF ME!!!**

**Review or else Alfred and I will never let go of Arthur. P.S: We won't share him with you. *sticks out tongue* **


	4. Apologies

_How many times must I apologize to you?_

_No matter what I do, you seem to move away._

_Why?_

_Can't you come back to me, please?_

_Do you miss me as much as I miss you? Does your heart connect to mine, as I long for mine to connect to yours? I am asking all these questions, and yet you do not give me answers. Do you not care?_

_Are you even listening?_

_

* * *

_

Matthew was peacefully sleeping in the guest bed at Alfred's house, dreaming of maple syrup and cute little animals.

Kumajiro was sleeping by his feet, snoring softly, and shifting positions every few seconds. Ah, yes. Matthew was beginning to enjoy spending time with his twin brother, Alfred. Despite the current situation with Arthur at the G8, Matthew was glad he was able to spend quality time with his brother. "Mhh....Maples...." Matthew softly mumbled in his sleep. All was so peaceful...the only problem was that it was Alfred's house. And at Alfred's house, it was NEVER peaceful.

Out of nowhere, Alfred jumped onto Matthew's bed, holding a large brown sack. "Sorry Matt," the American whispered with an impish smile. He raised the large bag over Matthew and shoved his little brother inside of it, ignoring the surprised shriek from Matthew. "Sorry, Matt! But I gotta go see Arthur, and so I have to take you captive!" This was so illogical, that Matthew was practically trying to strangle Alfred through the bag. "I-I don't care!!!! You can go see him! L-L-Let me out!!!!" The Canadian shrieked again, trying to pull himself out of the bag. Alfred pulled the bag off of Matthew, and smiled sheepishly. Well, it was a good plan, right? Perhaps a bit too direct but.....yeah. "Maybe I should have just left without doing this," Alfred said simply, tapping his chin as he pondered. Matthew face-palmed as he began taking back his thoughts about happily bonding with Alfred. get back at Alfred first....bond later.

"F-F-Fine then! B-But I'll...I'll come too!"

"Really? Thanks! What about your little bear buddy here?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine. And, Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

Matthew grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Alfred's face.

"There we go. We're even."

The two brothers packed a few extra clothes, just in case they somehow ended up spending the night in England (Don't think dirty, people!). They boarded Alfred's plane to London as soon as they were ready.

"What should I say to him, anyways?" Alfred asked with an uneasy smile. The American had already worked out a deep, emotional, hero-like apology...but it all slipped out of his mind due to the crazy Matthew incident earlier. Matthew glanced over at Alfred, shrugging simply. "I-I suppose anything will do....as long as y-y-you apologize." Matthew and Alfred had a similar problem; they both were horrible at expressing their feelings. Matthew, obviously, was too shy and timid to express anything to anyone other than Alfred and France. Alfred, on the other hand, was just too proud and somewhat stupid to even say what he wanted. When the American wanted to express gratitude, for instance, he would laugh casually and flash a smile. That gesture often confused the other nations.

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should just tell him I'm sorry then give him my famous wink and smile! Hahahaha! Great, right?"

"....sure....yeah...."

* * *

_"Oh heavens, what will we do!? Its already been over 9 hours! he could die at any given moment!!!" _A sprite sobbed. Arthur was still unconscious and barely breathing. The one thing that has kept him alive this long was the mystical creatures' powers. _"I'm getting weak,_" a small unicorn whimpered, _"But we must keep trying! Someone will find him soon, so we must hang in! "_

Arthur's emerald green eyes that once bounced with life and emotion were dark, hollow, and empty. He was dying. The air that he managed to fill his lungs with had to fight the constricting feeling in his throat. He was barely breathing, and his skin was paling. It was all so dark and cold....

Was this the end for the Kingdom of Britain?

_Alfred...._ the single name ricocheted through his name, slicing him deep as if it were a knife, burning his insides like it was a poison..... the single name Alfred.

He was dreaming...

_"Arthur! Arthur!" _

_Arthur fondly smiled as he turned to the young, colonial, affectionate Alfred. The boy returned the smile and outstretched his arms to hug Arthur. "Arthur!" he cried happily as they embraced. The empty world of white they stood in made Arthur dizzy, but he ignored the feeling. What did it matter? This what what Arthur longed for....this moment, Arthur wanted to live in it forever..._

_......or did he?_

_Suddenly, the small boy that barely reached his ribs changed. Alfred became his tall, cocky, and cheery self. But he was not a colony. He was America. 50 states and all, including that tasteless bomber jacket. "A-Alfred!? Let go!" Arthur gasped, his face becoming flushed. For them to hug like this....it was.....! Alfred met Arthur's gaze. The American was smiling slyly and his eyes were half-lidded. What was he planning? Alfred leaned forward brushing his lips against Arthur's cheek._

_"GAH! A-ALFRED! STOP THAT!" Arthur shouted in pure embarrassment. He trembled in his attempts to shove away the American. "We can't do this! I don't want this!"_

_America pulled away and stared at Arthur in confusion._

_"That's a lie. Just relax, Arthur."_

_Arthur blushed as Alfred leaned in for another chaste kiss. _

_Maybe, the Briton thought to himself, the Revolution didn't end up in misery after all.... Now, Alfred and I can be....._

_**"ARTHUR!!!!!"**_

_The dream world shattered at the instant Arthur heard the scream. Alfred vanished._

_**"DAMNIT, MATTHEW! HURRY UP AND DIAL 999!!!! ARTHUR, YOU IDIOT, STAY WITH ME!!!! ARTHUUUUUUUUR!!"**_

_**

* * *

**_

When Alfred and Matthew landed in London and drove to Arthur's house, they did not expect this.

Arthur's body, unconscious, still, and pale. He was just lying there, sprawled on the ground as if he had fallen. He most likely did. At first, Alfred didn't know what to do.

Scream.

Cry.

Run.

He wanted to do these things, and yet he new he couldn't. Matthew, who stood beside him, just stood there with his lips quivering. "A-Arthur!" The Canadian broke the deathly silence as he slumped to the ground, kneeling by the Briton's body. "A-Alfred! H-H-How did this h-happen!?" he sobbed, crying like a child that lost a favorite toy. Alfred finally snapped out of his shock and commanded, "Matthew! Call 999! Now, and hurry! We can't waste any time here....he is dying as we speak!" Matthew nodded and raced towards the living room phone.

As Matthew sobbed and explained into the phone, Alfred knelt by Arthur's side. Tears were pooling in the American's eyes as he stared into the face of the Englishman. Arthur looked....dead. His skin was chalk-white, his eyes were dim and hollow-looking, and his chest was barely moving as he breathed. Heavens, what had caused this? Did the Brit go drinking to ease his pain after the G8?

G8...

G8......

Alfred buried his face in his hands, realizing his errors once more.

_Oh God no....oh dear God no....no no no no no no!!!!! This is my fault!!!! The G8 commotion and everything....holy shit what have I done!? Arthur! Arthur!!! ARTHUR!!!!! _Alfred could no longer contain his guilt quietly. Like Arthur did at the G8, he began shouting out what he felt. "ARTHUR! DAMN IT!!! ARTHUR, YOU IDIOT! STAY WITH ME! _**ARTHUR!!!!!!**_" The American grabbed the Brit by the shoulder and shook him, hoping to somehow reawaken him. Nothing. "Damn it....please...." Alfred could feel more tears flow. He suddenly didn't care if Matthew was in the next room. He didn't care if anybody was watching.....

Alfred gently pressed his lips to Arthur's.

Arthur did no reawaken like the princesses in fairy tales. He stayed the same. Why did Alfred even attempt such a foolish idea?

He wanted to anyways.

Matthew had witnessed the entire thing, knowing full well of Alfred's feelings for Arthur. The Canadian knew of those feelings for years, even before WWII. The sound of sirens snapped the two out of their thoughts. "Thank goodness!" Alfred breathed. The paramedics came in with the stretcher and an oxygen tank. "Come on, Mr. Kirkland..." one of them muttered as he placed the oxygen mask onto Arthur. "He's still breathing....but his pulse is dangerously low. We ned to get him to the Emergencies!! Hurry!"

"Matt," Alfred choked out. "Its my fault..."

Matthew didn't answer him at all.

He knew Alfred was right.

* * *

Antonio rushed down the halls of the hospital in London. Matthew had informed most of the other nations that were on good terms with Arthur about the unfortunate event. That mean Antonio, Feliciano, Romano, Toris, Kiku, Francis, Yao, and Peter. "I hope everything is alright..." the Spaniard muttered. He was still cross about the armada incident all those years ago, but he was still on good terms with Arthur.

"Yes, I know! Ahahaha!"

Was that....Romano? Antonio stopped in his tracks and peered around the corner of the hall, eyeing the Italian. What was this!? The irritable, grumpy, snappish Romano was heartily smiling and laughing? With a female nurse? *Antonio had noticed that Romano was a bit bitter and snappish towards males...but women, Romano treated them like precious and fragile beings. "Oh, so I see," the nurse laughed. She was quite lovely. Her curly brown hair was tied back into a slender ponytail, her eyes were the color of sapphires...and her face was lovely! An angel, Antonio had to admit.

This made his blood boil with jealousy.

Why couldn't Romano.....be the same with Antonio? The one who raised him? The one that fought to protect him for other greedy nations? The one that always loved him? "Hey! Romano! Over here!" Antonio suddenly shouted. Romano and the lovely nurse turned to the Spaniard with confused faces. "Eh? Antonio? What are you doing here?"

"Matthew called. He told me about Arthur, and so I came to offer him my best wishes and good health! Shall we go off to see him?"

Romano briefly have Antonio a death-look, but nodded. "Ah, yes. Forgive me, Ms. Emily, but I must go." The Italian spoke a quick sentence in Italian after that, then followed Antonio down the hallways. "What the FUCK was that all about?" Romano snapped with irritation.

Yep.

The Romano that Antonio was used to was back.

"Me? How about you? Flirting with that nurse!? And saying to her, _Until next time, my lovely_, in Italian was so cheesy!" Antonio snapped back. Romano frownedat the Spaniard. "Goddamn, you're pissed! You fucking worry about everything!"

"Lovino," Antonio said quietly. Romano was shocked by the use of his human name. He didn't use it often, he liked Romano better. But.... "I know that I've asked you this before but...will you marry me?"

* * *

Arthur was blinded by light.

Slowly opening his eyes, he wondered where he was. "W-Where...?"

"A-Arthur!"

"Alfred...? Where am I...?"

The American, who was sitting by Arthur's hospital bed, sighed with relief. "Thank God! I was so worried!"

"Hey, you git! Answer me, will you?"

"..After the G8 meeting when you..yeah, you know...yelled at me, you rushed home. The doctors told me that your depression, anxiety, and built-up emotions caused you to go into this, um, freaked out stage. Your lungs didn't work right and you were unconscious for almost 13 hours...."

Arthur blinked in surprise, then he remembered it all.

All.

He turned red with shame and tore his gaze away from Alfred. "Arthur?"

"W-What?" the Brit was embarrassed already. Was Alfred here to mock him? "I'm sorry, so sorry....its all my fault..." Alfred whimpered. The American ignored the tubes that were connected to Arthur, and wrapped his arms around him. "Please...I'm so sorry..."

"A-Alfred...?" Arthur breathed. He felt warmth rising up from his chest and spreading throughout his body. "No, I'm sorry. I was a complete bastard at the meeting....I'm....."

"Shut up, Arthur. Just, please, relax. That way I can stop having heart attacks every time I see you?"

"W-What!?"

"Ve! Ve! Look, Ludwig! They're lovey-dovey!" Feliciano and Ludwig entered the room at a very, shall we say, intimate moment. Alfred pulled himself off of the Englishman and turned beet red, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "H-Hey! So, you came by?" Ludwig nodded his reply. "Yes, Feliciano begged me to stop by as well. I hope you are feeling better, Arthur." Arthur nodded his thanks, his dizziness coming back suddenly. The last thing he needed was more....

"AIYAH! Arthur, are you alright, aru?!"

"Ahahahaha! My, my! It seems that poor Arthur had an accident! Merci!"

"A-Arthur-san? Are you alright?!"

"BROTHER!!!!"

"Mr. Arthur, are you feeling alright?"

"A-A-Arthur! A-Are you alright?"

Arthur felt a serious migraine coming on.... Alfred asked them all to be a little quieter around Arthur, since he just woke up. "Brother! Brother!" Peter wailed, ignoring Alfred. He rushed to his brother's side, sobbing and crying for Arthur to not die. "P-Peter! Don't cry! Hey," Arthur sighed as he placed an arm around Peter with a smile, "I'm not going to die, alright?"

Finally, everyone settled down and asked Arthur if he was feeling alright. The last thing Arthur needed was something unexpected and loud...

As if on cue, Antonio and Romano burst into the room loudly. "ROMANO SAID YES!!! WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!!! YES!!!!!!"

Arthur promptly fainted.

* * *

**It has been proven that Romano is stingy and snappish towards men, but he's polite and flirty with women! Shameless Romano! LOL!**

**What Could It Be? will be updated this weekend.**

**THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING!!!! *SMILES* And yes, everyone wanted Alfred to save Arthur, and so he did. Originally, i was going to have Peter visit Arthur and find him, then call Alfred in panic. **

**ANTONIO AND ROMANO ARE GETTING MARRIED! HOORAY! Oh, and Arthur is free once more. **

**Arthur: Bloody fangirl! You nearly killed me!**

**Me: *glomps Romano* Now, I'm holding Romano hostage. Ahahaha....**

**Antonio: NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! GIVE HIM BAAACK!!"**

**Romano: These people have serious issues....**


	5. Scars

_Tears fall like rain._

_The tears wash away their sins, their errors, their past...._

_And yet, these tears were not wanted by either of them._

_Why?_

_Why hate something that rids yourself of the feeling of agony? Of pain? Of anger? Are tears not the final option in the times of heartbreak and suffering? _

_Tears bring pain._

_With pain, comes more tears._

_Before they even knew it, they were trapped in a world of their own tears. What can stop the tears? What can stop the pain? _

_Could it be that they were meant to destroy each other's pain?_

_

* * *

_

A few days ago, Arthur was released from the hospital.

The Englishman had spent over a week recovering in the hospital, each day filled with boring tests and medications. Then, one hopeful day, the nurse told him he was all patched up and that he could go back home. Arthur was relieved.

Now, the Brit was taking a long, warm shower. He was tired still, most likely from stress over his nation's economy issues and such. The warm water from the shower somewhat calmed him down. Calm. That one emotion was rarely felt with Arthur. So many things were happening! Not just with politics and economy, but with his social life! What to do about Alfred? When did Arthur start feeling like this towards Alfred? Arthur shook it off, letting the warm water pull him into this rarely felt peace. He was content, so content that he began humming a few songs by the Clash. Yes, this feeling was something the Brit missed...

As his bathroom was upstairs, he did not hear the sound of wood being knocked on. "Iggy!" Alfred called out. Where was Arthur? The American knocked on the door again, a bit louder than the last attempt. Still no answer. Alfred was getting worried. "Artie? Hey, Arthur? Its me, Alfred! Open up!" Still no answer. What if...Arthur collapsed again? What if he was dying!? The American felt sick just thinking about it. What to do!? How could he get in? _Wait, Arthur usually has a spare key hidden somewhere....but where? _

Alfred searched all over the Briton's porch. He overturned little decorations, planters, pots, and even the hose. Where was that blasted key? The American, in frustration, kicked at the welcome mat that was laid out before the door. There! There was the key! "Alright, I really am awesome! Now, don't worry, Arthur, I'll save you!" Alfred declared this as he picked up the silver key and turned it in the lock.

"Alright now, where is he?" Alfred muttered to himself. His hero instincts kicked in as he heard footsteps from upstairs. _Oh no, what if somebody is kidnapping Arthur? What if he's trying to fight them off!? Don't worry, Arthur! I'm coming!_ Arthur entered the house and rushed up the stairs towards Arthur's room. With luck, he would be able to save Arthur! Heroes NEVER fail at saving their love interest! "ARTHUR!" Alfred nearly screamed as he entered the bedroom.

Well...he wasn't expecting this.....neither of them were....

There was Arthur, perfectly fine and dandy...but shirtless. He had pants and everything on but his upper body was fully exposed to Alfred.

"U-Um....I guess you're not in any danger?" Alfred managed to squeak sheepishly. Arthur frowned in frustration, his face scarlet. "Bloody hell, Alfred! How the fuck did you get into my house?" The Brit didn't even bother to cover up his upper body. Alfred turned a deeper shade of red as his eyes became glued to Arthur. _Dear God...._ he thought. "I-I..er...used your spare key. I knocked but you didn't answer, so i thought....thought that you were unconscious or something again...." How embarrassing! Alfred shifted uncomfortably from his standing spot, his eyes glued to the handsome Englishman. "Would you quit staring, you git? You're creeping me out!" Arthur snapped, blushing wildly. Alfred swallowed, his throat becoming dry as he continued watching the Brit, ignoring the embarrassed ranting from said Brit. That pale skin looked so smooth...alfred just wanted to reach out and....Alfred snapped out of those perverse thoughts, trying to regain his sanity. "Wow....." Alfred managed to say. "...you have a lot of scars, Arthur."

Arthur parted his lips slightly in surprise.

"...I suppose I do..."

"Where did you get them all from, anyways?" Alfred asked. The American walked over to the bed Arthur was sitting on, and sat down beside him. Arthur's eyes dimmed in a nostalgic manner, a small sigh escaping his lips. "I have many scars.... Most of them from wars and plagues. I have several from the Crusades, the Opium Wars, and even the Hundred Years War. I have recent ones too," Arthur glanced at Alfred before continuing. "I have a few from 7/7....the Iraq War....." The Brit stopped there, feeling horrible memories flood into his mind. "You have it rough, Arthur," Alfred whispered, "I have a lot of scars too but...you have even more than I thought." The American allowed his eyes to travel to the Englishman's arms. "You have some from me, too."

Silence.

"The ones from the Revolution aren't very big. There's only one that is noticeable," Arthur chuckled, fingering the scar Alfred personally gave him. This did not go by unnoticed by the American. Alfred frowned and bit his lip. That scar... "These are your physical scars, Arthur. I probably caused even more scars than you think..."

Arthur bit his trembling lower lip, his eyes threatening to release tears. "S-Stop talking so mature, you idiot...." Alfred was right, though. Every day, Arthur would have horrible dreams and memories from the Revolution, and also about Alfred himself. Something sparked inside Alfred, the same spark that he felt earlier when he kissed Arthur after finding him unconscious. All this pain...Alfred wanted to make it all go away. "W-What are you...?' Arthur gasped as Alfred leaned closer. "S-Stop it! I m-mean it!" This seemed familiar to the Brit. It was almost like the dream he had! Was Alfred about to kiss him? Oh God, Arthur felt his heart beat rapidly. Alfred, however, was not targeting Arthur's lips. He brushed his lips over the numerous scars on the Englishman's chest and arms, as if he was kissing them to make them vanish. "A-Alfred! W-What...!?" Arthur managed to say, despite the warm feeling that was beginning to rise in his stomach.

"S-Stop it, you git! get out of my house! Out! OUT!" Arthur cried out as he pulled away. The scars that were kissed felt like they were burning. Alfred nodded, not feeling any hurt or pain by the statement. He knew he acted wrong, just kissing the one that went through hundreds of years of pain because of him. What was he thinking? Making a sudden move on the Englishman like that? Alfred smiled and said, 'See ya, Iggy!" He then raced out of the house, his cheeks flaming.

Arthur sat there on his bed, feeling strange and warm. _What the fuck was up with that!?_ His mind raced as the image of Alfred kissing his scars flashed into his mind, causing Arthur to turn bright red. "Well...I need a long, _cold_ shower now, damn it..."

Strangely, Arthur wanted Alfred to continue.

So, why did he stop him?

* * *

Alfred continued running, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat as he harshly sucked in more air. He had to keep running. What was he thinking? Kissing Arthur like that? Surely, that was not just a romantic approach! It was more like....like something Francis would do! The American stopped running, leaning against a lamppost as he panted for a more steady flow of air. What on earth was he going to do? Arthur would surely ask him about it the next time they met!

The cold and foggy streets of London seemed to match the American's mood, for once. He was depressed, horrified, and sad. Arthur...how was he going to apologize to Arthur? Just say, "Sorry I started kissing your chest like that. I couldn't help myself!"? That would NEVER work. Maybe, "I couldn't help it, you're so hot and I love you."? Where the FUCK did that come from? Alfred began wondering if the London air was screwing with his head...

Falling to his knees, Alfred slammed his fist against the ground. "Damn it... I fucked it up big time. What was I thinking, jumping onto Arthur like that?!"

"What's this? You jumped Arthur? My, my! You're more scandalous than I thought, Alfred!"

Alfred looked up to see Francis, in all his perverted glory, standing there with a bag labeled HOT STUFF ADULT STORE. Choosing to ignore (and not think about) the bag that was filled with...things...., Alfred stood up and gasped, "Francis! I need your help! My love life is on the line as we speak!!"

"Oh? What's this? You're asking me for love advice with Arthur? Let me guess, to spice things up?" Francis laughed, a sleazy grin on his face. Alfred scowled, in both disgust and annoyance. "No, you perverted ass! I did something, and I think Arthur may have been a bit...er...disapproving of it...and..." Francis broke in by laughing, "What? So you DID jump him!?"

"NO! SHUT UP AND LISTEN, YOU IDIOT!!!!"

"Alright, fine. Now, what exactly did you do?"

Alfred blushed scarlet as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Um...I walked in on him when he was shirtless....and I mentioned he had a lot of scars. he told me about them and then, I don't know....I.....I started kissing them." It sounded rather ridiculous when Alfred explained it, but Francis, with his perverted imagination, turned the entire thing into....well, a Francis-like thing. "My, my! How amazing! So awesome! I never thought you had it in you! Now, I assume that Arthur pushed you off in pure embarrassment, then told you to leave, yes?" Amazing. Right on the dot! Alfred nodded. "Ah, silly, silly, Arthur. You're worried that he may not want to see you for a while, and that he may not feel the same towards you?"

"Yeah! Amazing! How did you know!?"

"Call it a Frenchman's intuition. All you need to do is play hard to get! Arthur may not seem like it, but he's actually quite romantic when he wants to be. He's also a closet pervert, if you catch my drift...."

"What!? No way!"

"Although, you probably wouldn't know," Francis scoffed. "Arthur never tells you anything nowadays. I can see why though..." All the respect for Francis that Alfred had moments ago, it all shattered. Anger began filling his veins. "What do you mean, Francis?" The Frenchman smirked cockily. He found it quite enjoyable to play games with the other nations, telling them secrets to see what happens and such... "Oh, its just that Arthur is afraid of you."

Afraid....

Afraid......of Alfred?

Francis continued on. "Even though you two patched things up, he was always, and still is, afraid of you turning on him again. He thinks that by telling you his secrets, you might not want to be with him anymore. He's such a child, sometimes... Really, I find it pathetic, no? No wonder nobody likes spending time with that uncouth Brit, he's so paranoid and depressing! Not to mention h--"

Alfred ended the Frenchman's rant with a sharp and heavy punch. Francis clutched his bleeding nose, glaring at the American. 'What the hell was that for!?" Alfred gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at Francis. Was this what Arthur felt like at the G8? Alfred now understood Arthur's rage and hurt, and it only made Alfred feel even worse. "Don't you DARE talk about Arthur like that! He's better than you....he's always been! So don't talk like him in such a way again, you fucking bastard! If I hear you speak of Arthur like that again, I'll kill you.....SO SHUT UP!" Alfred snarled. The American turned to leave. Francis laughed, "You're suddenly his protector, hm? Funny, its all YOUR fault that's he so weak and lonely! You think you can undo the damage? You think he'll gladly accept your love? Well, Alfred, you're wrong. Dead wrong."

Alfred whipped around to face Francis. "No, you're wrong. You'll see! Arthur and I will be happy together! We will!"

Francis laughed again. "Go ahead and try, Alfred! Have your heart broken, why don't you? Maybe then you'll understand how Arthur feels, yes?"

Alfred glared at the Frenchman one more time before storming off.

It was official.

Alfred was going to prove Francis wrong.

We would win Arthur's heart no matter what, even if it took years to do so!

And then, he could heal Arthur's inner scars.

* * *

**Now things will get interesting! :)**

**I suppose I should say the disclaimer again..... I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS ALL RIGHTS GO THE THE RESPECTFUL OWNERS.**

**You all can just call me Lunar-chan, if you wish! :) Oh, I have a few questions for you all too. **

**1: Do you want any more pairings other than the ones listed in the summary? **

**2: Should there be any love triangles going on ?**

**3: What else do you want to see in the story? I mean, any suggestions or ideas? **

**I want to make you guys happy, so thats why I'm asking you these questions. Please review, and include your answers if you like. **


	6. Closets, Weddings, and Angst! Oh my!

**Based on your votes, this is what will happen:**

**1. Heracles/Kiku has been added. I can't believe I forgot about this couple, especially since I support them. **

**2. This was a tough one. Many of you wanted Francis to become part of a love triangle with Alfred and Arthur, and some wanted Kiku to become part of a triangle. Unfortunately, I have to agree with one reader that told me to avoid love triangles in this story. Alfred and Arthur are already having enough problems as it is, that and they're already realizing their feelings a bit. However, if you REALLY want a love triangle story involving Alfred, Arthur, and Kiku or Francis, leave a message on my profile. I'll gladly accept requests. :)**

**3. Lastly, some of you reminded me that I have barely included any time for the other couples. Which is why this chapter does not contain Alfred or Arthur until the end. What happens in this chapter is going on at the same time, pretty much. **

**Thank you for your ideas and comments. Now, onto the story! :)**

**

* * *

**

"Have you heard about Antonio and Romano? They're getting married in a few months," Heracle said simply. A dark brown tabby cat rested on the Greek's lap, softly purring with content as Heracles petted it lovingly. "Yes, I have. They announced it when I was visiting Arthur-san in the hospital a few weeks ago," Kiku replied in an equally simple voice. The two were sitting on the old, chipped, and worn out steps of Athens. "So," Heracles asked, "Will you attend?"

"I have been invited, so I must, I suppose."

Their relationship was very simple; few words were spoken between the two, even though there were many things left unsaid. Silence filled the small gap between the two. Francis would have laughed if he knew of their secret relationship. There was nothing going on, really. They would always sit together in silence, glancing at each other for a few moments while having short and quiet conversations. Of course...there was that one single time when they slept together, but they never spoke of it. It was strange to Kiku. That was his first time, so he did not know what was supposed to happen AFTER they did it. Were they supposed to do that more often? Or do what they were currently doing, which was sitting around quietly? "Heracles-san, a few months ago, we..." Kiku paused to blush. "....we had _it_. But, I was wondering...what do you usually do after?"

Heracles looked at Kiku in slight surprise, then sighed, "Don't know. It depends on who you did it with."

"So...are we suppose to pretend like nothing happened?"

Heracle scooted close to Kiku. "It _did_ happen, though. Right?" Kiku blushed again, looking down at his feet in embarrassment. "Well, it did, but is there a specific thing to do after a while? Any kind of ritual or something?"

The Greek shrugged. "Do it again?"

Kiku yelped in surprise. "W-What!? We must?! Are you certain!?" Heracle smiled a bit and place an arm around the Japanese man. "Only if you want to, Kiku." Kiku calmed himself down, gulping as he prepared for his next question.

"Um, H-Heracles-san...I was wondering...would you accompany me to Antonio-san's and Romano-san's wedding?" Kiku said this with a bit of boldness in his voice. Heracles blinked in surprise, then nodded silently. "I would like that very much, Kiku."

The two sat together in silence once more, but this time, they were smiling.

* * *

"Kumakichi, aren't you glad that our home is fixed up?"

"My name is Kumajiro. Who are you?"

"Matthew....Canada."

Those weeks at Alfred's house weren't so bad, despite the fact that Alfred practically attacked him every morning when he couldn't remember who Matthew was. But, even so, it was always nice to spend time with Alfred. "Ah! Home sweet home!" Matthew exclaimed. They finally reached his house, which looked even cozier than ever after his long absence. After reading the note the contractor left, Matthew let Kumajiro walk off to the TV, and then he started going through the kitchen. There wasn't much left in the kitchen. Just a few cereals, canned foods, and some nearly-expired milk.

Matthew turned to go look in the pantry, only to find a bag on the counter.

_Hot Stuff: Adult Store_

Inside the bag was nothing disgusting or perverted. It just contained a bottle of champagne (Although, Matthew was suspicious of what was _in _the champagne)He didn't need to be told whose bag it was. The Canadian looked around nervously. "F-Francis? A-A-A-Are you here?"

Silence.

It was time to form Operation: Search and Find the French Pervert! Matthew frowned a little and began wandering around his house, looking for Francis. Where could he be hiding? He checked the bedroom (in case Francis was planning.....you know), the garage, the laundry room, and every other room in the house. Where was that French maniac!? Matthew sighed heavily, leaning against the hallway closet. It was at that moment when the closet door suddenly burst open, and two strong hands yanked the Canadian inside. "GYAH! FRANCIS!!!?" Matthew yelped in surprise. The Frenchman grinned evilly. "I'm sorry I was late, I had a little argument with your brother, Alfred." Matthew trembled a bit, embarrassed and scared. "F-Francis..how about letting me out of here....please?" He was answered with an evil French laugh and Francis stroking his cheek lovingly. "You're too coy, Matthew. Just like Arthur..."

Matthew blinked in surprise, thinking about what Francis just said. He pulled out of the Frenchman's grasp. "W-What do you mean!? You w-w-weren't d-doing what I think you were...were you?" Francis laughed heartily in reply, "Ah, you misunderstand. Today, your brother did something very scandalous to Arthur, and Arthur got embarrassed and pushed him off. I snapped at him a bit though."

"For what? Jumping Arthur?"

"No, no. I was just reminding him of how cruel life can be. That Revolution of his really did damage Arthur, even I was amazed at how zoned out he was. I just told Alfred that Arthur may not be willing to love him so quickly, that is all. Of course, I paid the price for my little speech." Francis pointed at his nose, which was a bit bruised from the American's punch. Matthew chuckled a bit, lowering his guard. Was it wise to lower your guard around Francis? No. You would have to be either incredibly stupid or too easygoing. Francis' eyes almost seemed to be filled with some unknown, evil, and red light... Matthew paled.

"W-Wait am-m-m-minute, not in--GAH! WAIT! NOT I-I-I-IN HERE!!! GYAAAHH! HEY! W-WOULD YOU LISTEN!? GAAAAAAHHH!"

In the TV room, Kumajiro tilted his head in curiosity as he heard Matthew's screams fill the air.

"Who is that...?"

* * *

"Ah, Feliciano! Ludwig! I'm glad you came to help me out," Antonio said with his usual smile. Feliciano waved at the Spaniard with a cute expression on his face. "Where's Romano? Ve?"

Antonio frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Hmm....I think he went out to organize somethings. I can't really recall what he was going to organize for the wedding, but I think it was important. Food...? Hm. Anyways, here's what I need your help with." The Spaniard led them around his house to his backyard. There were already some wedding decorations being set up (the altar was being built, light drawings in the ground for where to place what, etc.). "You're already setting it up? You have two months still, and you only proposed a few weeks ago," Ludwig commented. Antonio ignored the comment and dragged them both to where the altar was almost finished. "Aha! Stand up on the altar, will you? I need to see if its in a good position before we finalize it. 'Kay? Here, you two stand like you're the ones being married." Feliciano happily obliged, already standing in position on the altar. "Ve! Ludwig, its like we're being married! Ve!"

Ludwig turned a deep shade of red, almost redder than Antonio's tomatoes.

"D-Don't say such things, Feliciano," Ludwig muttered. He hopped up onto the stage and stood in position, facing the Italian with a not-so-straight face. "Ah, hold up, let me back up a bit..." Antonio muttered as he scooted back. "Yeah, this is a good angle. .....Say, move a _little_ closer, will you? I just need to know if the altar will look any better depending on where we stand."

Feliciano, with a cheery smile, jumped closer to the German. "F-Feliciano, that's too close...!" The Italian was almost leaning against the German. "Isn't this fun, Ludwig? It feels like we're getting married, right? Right?" Innocent, or not so innocent, Feliciano kept babbling about a pretend marriage with Ludwig, and how fun it would be. The German's eye twitched in embarrassment, knowing that Antonio was happily watching it all. "A-Aah, Antonio! You finished yet!?"

"..hm? Oh! Oh, yeah! Ahahaha, sorry. You were both so cute, I couldn't help but space out!"

"Ve! You hear that, Ludwig? We're cute! Ahehehe!"

How could someone say that and sound innocent!? It was amazing, really, what the Italian could get away with. He could yell out the dirtiest phrase ever in public, and people wouldn't care! Despite how embarrassed the German was, he did not move from his spot. The same went for the oblivious Italian. And the Spaniard merely watched with a gleeful smile.

"Hey! Antonio, where the hell are y--WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!?? FELICIANO IS MARRYING THE POTATO FREAK!!!???" Romano had walked in on the moment, staring in horror as his brother stood up on the altar with Ludwig. Ludwig turned deep, deep, DEEP, red. "A-Ahh! It isn't w-what you think!" Ludwig desperately tried to explain.

"AND YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED ON **OUR** WEDDING ALTAR!!???? FUCK YOU!!!!"

"Lovi, my love, calm down! No, wait a minute! Put down that vase! That's really old! Lovi!!!"

* * *

Arthur sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at his feet.

_Fucking git probably just did it to piss me off. Like hell he'd actually love me or anything...if anything, he probably despises me._ The Englishman's eyes were downcast. What Alfred had done, with the scars and all, just hurt Arthur more than anything. Yes, he enjoyed it a lot. If Alfred actually did love him, he'd urge him to continue, and maybe even do it back to Alfred. But to have him kiss him in such a way when he clearly did NOT love him just killed Arthur inside. He felt stupid. Embarrassed. Angry. But above all, he was sad.

_Alfred...._

This game was tearing him apart. He couldn't stand it. To see Alfred, smiling and laughing, each day made Arthur feel worse. He would gladly give his all to be with the American but.... it wouldn't work.

_Maybe its best if I don't talk to him anymore outside of meetings and politics....and if I stop spending free time with him.... It will hurt me deeply but, its the only way out of this hell. _

Arthur closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

_Forgive me, Alfred._

_

* * *

_

**Not my best chapter in the story.... -_- **

**Nothing really happened for Feliciano and Ludwig, just embarrassment and a pretend wedding. i'll put in some more moments for the supporting couples later.**

** Poor Canada.... France was very evil, wasn't he? France is in the closet (Boy howdy, that sure does sound messed up. XD he's already out of the closet! He's dating our favorite Canadian!)**

**Let's see.....oh yes. In case you didn't read my note at the beginning (shame on you!!!), I am not including any love triangles. But if you really want one that badly from me, I'll write one of you ask for it. **

**Anyways, I want to thank all of you that like the story and have left your reviews. That and added this story to their favorites. You guys are so awesome. **

**They're dubbing Hetalia... 0_0....The end is near, my friends. There will be crappy voice actors.....there will. **


	7. The Final Pieces to the Puzzle

Drinking was never a habit of Arthur's, really.

It was only a habit when he was depressed.

Which was about 65% of the time.

In the days of pirating, when Arthur plundered the seas and fought Antonio's ships, he drank rum as if it were water. The rum did not become foul, nor did it ever loose its freshness, like water did. After such a long time in the ship's cargo hold, the water would become foul and dirtied. Such dirtied water often caused illnesses and even poisoning. Rum, the main drink of a pirate, was the perfect role for them. Like the life of a pirate, it was bitter and yet addictive. And there was something, something that Arthur could not put into words, about drinking rum as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of the ocean. The fresh salty sea air only made the rum taste even better. However, as Arthur's pirate days began to decline, his love of rum did as well. No longer did rum taste so amazing and full of freedom. It tasted like what it actually was, alcohol. Not a miraculous and addictive drink that brightened the spirits and rushed your blood....just alcohol. When Arthur rank rum while on a modern boat, it wasn't the same. The sense of danger and adventure were what completed the addictive formula of rum for him, and with his pirating days gone out the window, it was just another drink.

It wasn't until after the American Revolution when Arthur began drinking like he always does.

The first week after the Treaty of Paris of 1783 was signed, Arthur just aimlessly walked about, not caring where he was going or what would happen to him. The pain of loosing Alfred, and the shame of it, greatly numbed his senses. The next thing he knew, he bought a bottle of gin and was at home, pouring himself a glass. One glass was not enough. As soon as he gulped the one down, he felt the need to pour more. Two glasses. Three. Four. Five. And soon, he was up to about over twenty. His mind had become fuzzy, and the memories of the Revolution were slightly fading. Arthur liked this. He found himself drinking away his pain, enjoying the feeling of relief. It was almost as if an ocean current had whisked him away from the darkness of the earth, and he was floating somewhere above it. The gin was good, and the feeling of loosing consciousness was better...at least, until morning came. All the alcohol he consumed caused one hell of a hangover, but Arthur didn't care. For one night, he felt no pain or torment. Of course, Arthur refused to become a drunkard. He took up the habit of drinking away his heavy sorrows, not just the ones he felt everyday. If he drank away _all_ his sorrows, he would be wasted everyday.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kirkland? Are you alright?"

Arthur looked up at the bartender and nodded blankly. His mind was not yet clouded by the alcohol. He needed more in his system. "Perhaps that is enough, sir. Any more, and you'll become drunk again!" The bartender was well aware of Arthur's tendency to over do it. "Nonsense. Now, poor me another round," Arthur grumbled. He needed to numb this pain once more. Alfred would never love him, and now he had to accept it. It was fucking hard, but he had to try. But first, he'd drink away the pain.

The bartender hesitated.

"I said..." Arthur glared at the bartender angrily. "...poor me another fucking round! I refuse to leave until I am COMPLETELY drunk, you hear!?" The bartender quickly poured the angered Englishman another mug, then hurried to the other customers.

_Hmph, that bloody barmpot wouldn't understand anyways, _he thought with a scowl. _I haven't seen or heard from Alfred in days...I guess my plan to ignore him is coming along better than I thought. The only problem is the damn UN meeting next week. I'll have to talk to him then....maybe I can find a way....._

He took another gulp of the beer, and sighed heavily. Why was it taking so damn long to get drunk? He just wanted to black out....even if for just a moment. When it came to Alfred, he had to get wicked drunk to black out. Just thinking about the handsome American snapped Arthur out of any haze or thoughts. How many times had he tried to win Alfred back? He even tried making weapons and other things that Alfred would like, all to win him back.

However, it is not the affection of a brother Arthur desires from Alfred.

No, Arthur desires love.

Real love. Not the hots, not a crush, not sexual need (although he did sometimes think about that part with Alfred....)

Love.

"Too bad he's too stupid to even know I love him...fuck, I have to stop thinking about him too. Come on, Arthur, Alfred is dead to me now. I can't just stop talking to him, I must stop thinking about him...." He took another sip of his beer, only to splutter it out as he took a glance at the mirror in front of him. The pub's wall behind the counter was covered, every inch, by a mirror.

And in that mirror he saw Alfred standing behind him, a shocked expression on his face.

_Oh fucking shit...please let it be a hallucination....oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...._

"A-Arthur....." Alfred managed to stammer.

Without saying anything in reply, Arthur turned back to his drink, pretending the American was not there. His eyes, however, were widened in horror. What would Alfred say? he just heard Arthur admit love out loud...not to mention his plan to ignore Alfred permanently. He heard Alfred approach, and soon he felt the American's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Arthur...you love me?"

Alfred's face was flushed, and his eyes seemed to be watering... Was it just Arthur's imagination, or did Alfred look...happy?

When Arthur didn't reply, except for the telltale blush on his face, Alfred said another thing.

"Arthur, I love you too...."

It came out as a soft whisper, but Arthur heard it loud and clear.

_He's lying....._

_Liar..._

_Liar!_

_LIAR!!!_

Arthur shoved Alfred's hand away and stood up to face him, pure hurt and anger washed over his face.

"YOU LIAR!!!!" He yelled out, tears already dripping down his face. "YOU FUCKING LIAR!!!" The Englishman tore out of the bar, despite Alfred's frantic plead to listen. "You didn't pay your bill!" the bartender cried out, the other customers were watching with bewildered expressions as well. Alfred hastily reached into his pocket and threw a 50 dollar bill at the bartender, then raced off after Arthur.

"What do you expect me to do with this?" the bartender muttered.

* * *

Alfred raced after the Brit, ignoring the stinging pain from the cold night air. It didn't matter. if he were to be shot at this moment, he would continue on after Arthur without even stopping. Why did Arthur not believe him? Why accuse him of being a liar? It didn't make any fucking sense, but all that mattered was getting to Arthur. The American had already lost the Englishman due to the minor delay at the bar. Where could he be? At home? No, that was too obvious. Knowing Arthur, he would go somewhere where he could be alone, where Alfred would never find him.

An idea sprang into his mind. Alfred pulled out his cellphone and dialed the number, ceasing his running. His breaths came out in pants as he waited to hear the single melody of Amazing Grace.

He heard it!

Alfred raced towards the sound, thinking of Arthur with each step. He loved Arthur with all of his heart, even though they argued a lot, he loved him. Don't ask him how and when he fell in love with his former mentor, because Alfred wouldn't be able to answer. It just happened. One day, he just knew he loved Arthur, and that he would do anything to win his heart. The other day, when Francis told Alfred that Arthur wouldn't love him so easily, Alfred didn't believe it. After all, in all of the movies in America, one confession brought them together, right?

Wrong.

Alfred was wrong, just as Francis said.

He was always wrong when it came to Arthur. He realized that at the G8 meeting, and realization hit him hard. Arthur was always in pain, always alone, always....

And when Alfred kissed Arthur that night he found his unconscious body, he felt like he was dying and yet soaring at the same time. The second time Alfred's lips met Arthur's flesh, it was not on the lips, but on his chest and arms. He knew it was so sudden and bold, but he couldn't contain himself. Arthur must have been hurt, thinking Alfred was playing around.

_Arthur.....! Art--!_

Alfred's inner cries of joys ceased as he saw Arthur's cellphone, still ringing, discarded on the ground.

Where was Arthur?

Alfred gritted his teeth, not caring who would hear him now...

"Damn it, Arthur! Please, don't run away from me! Please...just listen to what I have to say! Arthur! Please!!"

Silence.

"ARTHUR!!!"

"Just what makes you think I want to listen to you!?" Alfred's head snapped up as he saw Arthur standing across from him. He was scowling, but tears were dripping down his face. "All you ever do is talk nonsense and lies, all for fun! You think its funny!? Well it isn't, you fucking bastard!"

"Arthur....please...just--!"

"SHUT UP! I don't want to hear it!!!"

Alfred was loosing hope. Arthur turned to leave, but Alfred just couldn't...couldn't loose Arthur again...

The next thing Arthur knew, Alfred had embraced him, his arms wrapping around the Brit like a security blanket.

"A-Alfred....."

"Arthur, please...listen...."

"...fine then."

Alfred could feel tears pool in his own eyes as he prepared to let it all out. Everything he felt towards Arthur would have to come out here and now, or else Arthur would never talk to him again....never smile that smile, that incomplete smile.

"I love you, Arthur....I've loved you for so long, even before WWII. No, before WWI, I've loved you. I don't know when it happened, or why, but I can't stop thinking about you. You drive me insane, Arthur. I can always see your face when I close my eyes and...damn, its hard to express it into words. I never wanted to hurt you so much, Arthur. If anything, I wanted to keep you safe...to keep you happy. You have no idea how much I love you. Its almost like you're the final piece to my puzzle, an irreplaceable piece." Alfred swallowed nervously, seeing that Arthur was very still. "When I found you unconscious, I couldn't even breathe. I was afraid....." He began shaking a bit.

"Y-You kissed me then, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I had a dream then. You kissed me in the dream...and I was happy. Alfred....you really do love me?"

"Do you think I'd say all this mushy stuff if I didn't?"

"Alfred...I love you too. So much, I can't even describe it."

Alfred let go of Arthur and let the Briton face him. "Then don't. Just show me."

Alfred gently grabbed Arthur and kissed him, letting Arthur express how he felt through his lips. Moments passed by, and the broke away, despite how much they wanted to keep kissing. "Alfred...." Arthur whispered. He embraced he taller nation, unable to fight the blush on his cheeks. "I love you so much, so much!"

"Well," Alfred chuckled. "How about we get you home? Its getting pretty late."

"I'm not a girl, you idiot!"

Alfred smirked before kissing Arthur again, this time chastely. "You're a good kisser, Iggy!" he laughed in his usual way. Arthur turned beet red. "You're not so bad yourself..."

They walked back to Arthur's place, hand in hand.

The final pieces of their puzzles, finally put into place.

* * *

**Waah! I can't believe there is only one chapter left! An epilogue at the wedding, including all the couples in the story. if you want any other couples, say something quickly! You know how fast i update! **

**Anyways, this is going to be the first chapter story I have ever completed here. Amazing, isn't it? I want to thank you all for reviewing, because you guys have kept me going! **

**I'm currently working on a USxUKxFrance angst story, so keep your eyes peeled for that, if you like! My story What Could It Be? won't be updated for a while... I have a bad habit of starting a story then moving onto my new idea for a different story (explaining why i have never finished a chapter fic). **

**Review please! **


	8. Epliogue: The Wedding

_Love_

_The most powerful feeling a human can have._

_The ultimate joy in life._

_The funniest thing to ever happen._

_

* * *

_

Romano paced back and forth in Antonio's living room, the coattails of his black tuxedo with every swift turn. The wedding would begin in about thirty minutes, right in the courtyard of his beloved Spaniard. "Oh damn," Romano muttered, "Everyone I know is out there, and they'll be staring too. Oh fuck, this is going to be so embarrassing!" He growled in frustration as he glanced in the mirror for the twelfth time, hoping he looked alright. Did his hair, especially the one 'special' strand, look alright? Was he too casual? Despite the fact that he was wearing a tuxedo, Romano felt underdressed. "Hey, Brother! Aren't you excited, ve? You're about to be married! I'm happy!" Feliciano happily skipped in, looking over his brother in satisfaction. Romano looked very presentable, and there were no words of fashion advice Feliciano could give. "Wow, you look really good, Brother! Brother Antonio is going to be very pleased, and I bet he'll start crying too! You better hurry! Ve! Ve! The priest that was going to say the ceremony fell ill, bu--"

"WHAT!!!??" Romano screeched. Oh God, it was all over! They would have to reschedule, and perhaps cook all the food again the next time?! Romano freaked out, wondering what to do and why God was cursing him like this. 'Its because I'm marrying a man, isn't it!?" Romano panicked, trying to repent and ask for a miracle at the same time.

"Don't worry! Big brother Francis is going to say the ceremony for you, ve!"

"How the hell is that going to make me feel any freaking better!? He's a dumbass!"

Feliciano pouted, scooted closer to Romano, and gave him a hug. "Don't worry, Romano. Even if something does go wrong, Antonio will marry you! So just relax, and think about the good times you'll have with Antonio after the wedding! Ve!" The rare and determined side of Feliciano came out, shocking Romano. After all, Feliciano only talked seriously when it came to his past childhood love. "You don't know how lucky you are, Brother. You're marrying the one you've loved and been with since you were a child. I....I would love to marry the one I loved when i was a child...." Romano blinked in surprise. "H-hey, don't get teary eyed! You idiot, hey!"

"Ve? Ah, sorry."

They both silenced as piano music, played by Frederich, filled the air. "Shit, it's already been thirty minutes? Crap, wish me luck, or else I'll pummel you..." Romano said nervously, making his way towards the exit door that led to the courtyard. Everyone smiled at him as he took his first step outside, their eyes either teary or amused. The wedding, which took months to create, was happening. _I won't cry....I won't cry....._ Romano repeatedly chanted this in his mind as he slowly walked towards the altar, where Antonio was waiting patiently. The Spaniard's eyes began to water as Romano approached, a smile of pure joy crossing his face. This was his dream come true. His final moment as an unmarried man were here, and soon he would be reborn as a husband to Romano. As Romano stepped up onto the altar, he couldn't help but blush in embarrassment. Everyone he knew was watching!

"We gather here today to celebrate the joining of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Lovino 'Romano' Vargas," Francis began. Antonio watched Romano as Francis continued on with the ceremonial words, the Spaniard's eyes glazed over with pure joy. Romano, following the Spanish wedding traditions he found online, had an orange blossom pinned to his tuxedo. This made Antonio's heart swell with joy. Their final lines, the vows, were next. "Do you take Lovino 'Romano' Vargas as you...um....partner?" Francis had paused, wondering if Romano would kill him for saying bride. Antonio blushed and said, "I do."

"And do you, Lovino, take Antonio Fernandez Carriedo as your...partner?"

"I do," Romano replied, blushing. Francis smirked, happy to say the next part. Despite the bruises, and perhaps other wounds, Romano would bestow upon him, he couldn't help but say, "You may now kiss the _bride_!" Before Romano could tackle Francis, Antonio wrapped his arms around him and kissed him. Everyone cheered. "Like, no dress?" Feliks whispered to Toris, pointing to Romano in wonder. Toris rolled his eyes. Everyone got out of their seats and rushed towards the altar, congratulating the newlyweds. "Evviva gli sposi!" Feliciano cheered, hugging Ludwig, for some unknown reason.

"May there be endless love, joy, and good sex! Lots and lots of good sex!" Francis shouted loudly.

"WHY YOU...!!!!" Romano raged, chasing after Francis. Antonio paled. "L-Lovi! Not the vase again!!!!" Oh well, at least he could look forward to quiet times with Romano after everyone leaves. Alfred, being the boisterous one as usual, somehow managed to weave through the crowd of cheering nations to talk to Antonio. "Hey, congratulations, man!" Alfred said with his usual grin. Antonio grinned back, expressing his thanks. "Hey, after your honeymoon, can you tell me about the best way to have normal romantic moments? I think Arthur and I need more of those innocent moments in our relationship....." Antonio nodded, a serious look on his face. "I promise!" Typical. The Spaniard wasn't very good at reading the atmosphere; the conversation they just had was a bit awkward to say in public. Arthur turned bright red. "YOU BLOODY GIT!!!!!! ALFRED, I SWEAR I WILL MURDER YOU!!!!!"

"Ahahahaha, you love me too much, Iggy!"

"S-Shut up!"

"U-Um, perhaps we should let A-Antonio and Romano make....make their wedding toast?" Matthew piped up, timidly fiddling with his tie. Everyone looked at him in wonder, except for Francis, and tried to remember who the hell he was. "I'm Matthew," Matthew said with a pout.

Elizaveta turned to Frederich, a blush appearing on her cheeks. "Um...Frederich, I thought your piano piece for the wedding was lovely," she said coyly. Of course, this was done with some flirtatious movements, as it was in her nature to be a bit, shall we say, dirty. She made sure to look as innocent as possible to the Austrian, whom was blushing. "Thank you, Elizaveta. Of course, my music could never compare to your own loveliness." Elizaveta smiled and nodded her thanks, blushing even more. Perhaps now was a good time...? Frederich blushed a bit, nervousness taking control of his mind. "Elizaveta....I was wondering, would you care to join me for dinner this coming Saturday? Perhaps around seven at night?" Elizaveta smiled graciously; that is, until familiar laughter filled the air.....

"NIYONIYONIYONIYONIYO~!"

Elizaveta's eyes turned steely, a frying pan suddenly appearing in her hands. Frederich scooted back, knowing full well that the frying pan would be swung around rapidly at any given moment. "Gilbert, aru!" Yao cried out in surprise. "I thought you weren't coming, aru!"

The Prussian was standing on a sturdy branch of a nearby tree, his usual cocky expression etched onto his face. "I, Gilbert, have decided to grace you all with my pure awesomeness!" His lips slightly twitched as he eyed Frederich and Elizaveta, but soon he grinned once more. "Elizaveta, marry me!!" Everyone practically screamed out in surprise. Even Romano, although it was partly because he was previously kicked by Francis in defense. "W-What!? why the hell should I!?" Elizaveta shouted, racing towards him with her frying pan raised. Somehow, she was able to knock the Prussian out of the tree. "Please? I love you, you know! And I'm waaay better than that wussy Austrian over there!" Gilbert pleaded, his eyes glued to hers. Elizaveta blushed. Well, he did sound very convincing... But what could she do about it? She was already in love with Frederich, was she not? Gilbert hastily hid behind one of the buffet tables, hoping she would consider his proposition.

"A-Anyways, I'd like to propose a toast!" Antonio shouted above the commotion, pulling Romano to his side. He raised a wine glass, although not every nation present raised theirs in turn. Most of them were enjoying the drama going on around them, and did not notice the announcement. Antonio smile at Romano, kissing his chastely, and to his utter joy, Romano kissed back. As he pulled away, he began. "Love is a funny thing, you know? Its amazing that once, Romano and I hardly even knew each other. He worked in my house as a fledgling nation, right, Lovi? We didn't get along very well, but we still enjoyed each other's company." Romano blushed in response. "Well, I don't know when it happened, but we fell in love. And here we are today, in this not-so-perfect world, having our perfect wedding."

"The world would be perfect if you all became one with Russia, da?"

"Aniki! Aniki! Let's get married too!"

"Shut up, aru! Let him finish!!"

"Nah, I'm done! Right, Love, dear?" Antonio cooed, hugging Romano.

"In that case," Feliciano said giddily, "lets open gifts!!" Everyone stared at him in surprise and confusion. Was that normal? To open wedding gifts in front of everyone? It was rather rude, on one hand; and on the other, it was just embarrassing. "It's not a birthday party," Arthur said sternly. Alfred rolled his eyes and planted a rather sloppy kiss on the Briton's lips, making said Briton punch his arm in embarrassment. 'Stop doing that in public, you clueless moron!" Alfred smiled in response.

"Well, I'll open just one. A small one," Romano sighed. He agreed with Arthur, it wasn't a birthday party. But despite this, he wanted to have some kind of fun. "Hey, Heracles! Can you grab that small white bag were the gifts are? Wait...sorry! Continue on!" Antonio had called this out to the Greek, adding the last sentences as he saw Heracles was busy. And by busy, he was kissing Kiku. "Awwww, what do you know? It seems everyone's hooked up these days," Tino cooed. He turned red as a certain Swede inched closer, trying to show affection indirectly. _He'll never learn..._ Tino thought with a smile.

"Here, open this one," Francis said, handing a small black bag to the newlyweds.

"Um, Francis, not that one!" Matthew cried out, but Francis ignored him. The Canadian grew red and tried to hide behind Hong Kong, although most of the present nations had no clue who he actually was. Antonio and Romano opened the gift together, only to turn redder than tomatoes as they saw what it was.

It was a **#%$**......

Silence.

"In case you want to know how to use it in bed, ask Mattieu and I! We have our own, and we use it very often!" Francis said happily.

More silence.

For once else looked at Matthew, but this time, Matthew did not want to be seen.

"M-Maples...."

* * *

"Well, that was a nice wedding, wasn't it? They looked so happy," Arthur sighed, a dreamy smile on his face. What if, one day, he and Alfred stood on a wedding altar? "Yeah, and Romano actually smiled without frowning afterwards. Pretty cool, huh? Hey...Arthur...." Alfred blushed a bit, taking Arthur's hand in his. "Hm? What is it, Alfred?" For once, Alfred was rather quiet and timid, almost like Matthew. But after the gift fiasco during the wedding, Arthur wouldn't call Matthew a timid person again... "Well, I was just wondering if we could get married someday, you know? I'd like to be with you, yeah...."

Arthur blushed, then smiled.

"Git... even if we don's get married, you're the only one for me."

He kissed Alfred, not chastely, but not wildly. Alfred pulled away after a few moments. "Hey, let's grab some hamburgers, Iggy!" "But we just ate at the wedding! You're still hungry?" Alfred rolled his eyes, laughing as he did so. Arthur realized what really happened, and he frowned in annoyance. 'You didn't eat anything? Tell me, does classy food really seem inedible to you?"

"Who eats fish eggs, really?"

"A lot of people."

"Ah, whatever. Come on, _dearest_," Alfred chuckled, leading his lover towards the car, holding hands. Arthur smiled, secretly pleased by the term. Perhaps he could encourage Alfred to use endearments more often. "Whatever you say, _love,_" Arthur said with a smirk. As they began driving to the airport, something clicked in Alfred's mind. "Arthur, you know what? We haven't _slept_ together yet, if you know what I mean," the American said, almost as if the statement was nothing more than a simple sentence. It sounded more like a "Hey, you know what? That teacher used to work at convent." Arthur's cheeks turned bright red, his eyes widening in surprise. "E-Eh?" He didn't sound offended, just a bit embarrassed. Alfred nodded, his eyes still on the road. "Yeah, I mean, we've never done the dirty, but we've done some play...."

Arthur sighed, and before he could say anything, a pair of freezing cold hands gripped both his and Alfred's shoulders.

"There's a motel up ahead. You can stop there, da? Yao and I usually go there when we're in this country....can you take the next exit, da?"

"Sorry, aru. Our car broke down.... So, it will be your first time, aru?"

Alfred and Arthur screamed, and then nearly fainted.

* * *

**Evviva gli sposi= Hurray for the newlyweds! (Italian)**

**It is finished!**

**I'm actually a bit sad. This story was a pleasure to write, and you've all been so kind in your reviews. This is the first chapter story I have ever finished on this site! Woot! Anyways, thank you everyone. I'm sorry, I can't remember all of your screen names, because I suck at remembering names, and I don't think I'd be able to thank each and every one of you enough. You're all awesome. **

**Now I'll be working on short stories and "Engraved", my USUKFRA love triangle story. The first chapter was sucking, because I was tired and I just wanted to post the freaking story, only to realize it sucked. **

**Um....lets see.....I suppose a sequel isn't needed, unless you think so. Well, thank you for reading Pieces of the Puzzle!! **

***hugs***

**LunarEclipse896**


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